The Naked Statue
by rinsaya
Summary: But it was alright, having Korra under his arm and walking out intoxicated and exhausted to the cab, stumbling into their apartment and into a warm, welcoming bed at three in the morning. Makorra kinda modern au. Just for fun :)


"Pffft, he's naked," snorted Korra. "Look at him, he's got _no clothes on_!" Her laugh echoed in the hall, coming out in hiccups. Her fingertips ran up and down the statue's midriff as she giggled, squeezing her eyes shut and throwing her head back. Her other hand gripped tightly onto a glass of champagne-maybe her fifth? sixth? He'd lost count by that point.

"Korra," Mako muttered, his voice barely above a whisper as he took her hand in his. He glanced around, wary of pointed stares their way. "Look, you're _really_ drunk. So let's go find a bench to sit down, then go home real soon."

Her hand slipped out his, latching onto the wrist of the marble statue. Mako looked up with dazed, kinda-drunk vision: a husky man, white eyes staring down at him, his eyebrows furrowed and lips turned down in a grimace as if he were thinking of ways to kill the two disturbers by his pedestal. In one hand, he held a long chain; the other, rested on his hip. Mako's opinion? It was a weird statue that was supposed to have some artistic expression, but really was a naked guy looking ready to nail the next girl he saw.

"Mmm, he's really buff," Korra murmured, a hand on the statue's abdomen, her fingers tickling it up and down. " _So_ chiseled. I could totally bang him."

Mako hoped he didn't look as red as he felt, under the dim light of the chandelier hanging precariously above their heads. As Mako reached out to grab her hand again, he heard the deep rumble of a voice behind him: "Excuse me, ma'am, no touching the artwork."

Korra whipped around to face the short security guard. "Don't tell me what to do, I'm-"

"A drunk idiot," Mako finished, taking her hand. "Don't worry sir, you'll get no more trouble from me tonight-Korra, stop trying to bite the man-"

"Shut up!" a response came with gritted teeth.

The security guard turned away, sighing. "Why do I have to deal with losers like these," he murmured under his breath as he marched off.

"Hey!"

"Korra, let it go. Come on." Mako laced his fingers in her's, praying in his head that Korra would stir no more trouble that night. With his other hand, he plucked the glass of champagne out of her grasp and resting it at the foot of the statue. She nudged him with a lazy elbow, reaching out for it, but was stopped by the tug of a hand as he coaxed her to move along. "You've had too much to drink tonight. Let's go find a place to sit," he repeated.

"Mhmm. Lead the way, City Boy."

He decided against protesting the stupid nickname she'd dubbed so long ago. He spotted an open bench barely two yards away, neglected in the shadows of the room. The trip there, maybe a mere five steps, would've been easy if he didn't have a very drunk, very sleepy girlfriend on his arm. Her feet dragged against the floor, the heel of her stiletto screeching against the tile floor as he led the way to the heavy oak bench. They did something resembling of an elaborate dance when they finally reached their seat.

Korra nosed her way under Mako's arm, settling her cheek against his shoulder. He could smell a faint trace of perfume she'd put on six hours ago mixed with sweat and booze. "Tonight's been really, really boring," she scowled sourly. "Stupid art show no one cares about, stupid Tenzin making me go, stupid Jinora for telling me all those stupid facts. I don't care about Rembrandt! Nobody does!"

Mako cleared his throat and turned away, making a mental note to return that art book to Jinora. Hopefully Korra hadn't found it-

"Well, except you," Korra droned on, looking up at him. "I found this stupid art history book in your bag. I could not understand a single word in that textbook."

"Whatever," he muttered, running a hand through her dark hair.

She pressed her lips against his chin sloppily, and a bit of spit trailed on his jawline. He wiped it with a sleeve, turning her head back onto his chest. "Thanks for putting up with me," she whispered. "You-you are _so_ hot. I can't wait to get you in _bed_ later."

Mako blushed. "We're in public, Korra."

"I was talking to the statue." She glanced up at him under the dim light, blue eyes glittering with mischief.

"Shut up."

"Hey, his penis is bigger than you, to be fair."

"We're in public, Korra," he repeated, reddening. He sized up the statue with a glance up and down. Its eyes were the kind that followed you around the room, and it was either the poor lighting of the exhibit or his drunk-goggles, but the statue suddenly looked _really_ seductive. His thick brows turned down into a glare- this guy really couldn't be better than Mako, no way.

Korra giggled, punching him in the gut-it hurt more than he wanted to admit. "I'm just kidding, Mako. You're always so serious, you know?" She snorted, chewing her lip.

Mako grinned, planting a kiss on her forehead. "Come on, no more wine for you tonight. Let's go home, I'll call a cab."

"Uh-huh, Mako." She wrapped her arms around his waist, her cheek on his chest. "Yeah. Okay."

"Okay. Let's go." He nudged her with a gentle hand on her back. "Come on, Korra-Korra, stop licking my hand. You are really, really not sober."

"Mmm…"

"Korra."

His girlfriend snuggled under his arm. "No."

"Korra," he repeated again, struggling up. "We can sleep at home, on our comfy bed."

She tugged at his arm. "This is b-bench is tot'lly comfy," she stammered, her fingers pulling on his jacket.

He glanced down with tired amber eyes. Mako really, really couldn't just make her get up when she was being all...all cuddly, and whatever. Now seemed like the better time to say it than any other: drunk and exhausted in an art gallery opening, tangled up and on the brink of sleep. He pressed his lips to her ear: "I love you."

It wasn't the first time he said it, but it made him feel really, really warm and it wasn't the booze. Mako swore she grinned, then, "Uhmnhun," followed by a trail of snores. He let his eyelids flutter to sleep: the museum was still open for another few hours, and what harm could a little nap do?

Of course, he never intended for Tenzin and Jinora to find them tangled and asleep; he never intended for Jinora to squeal _Wow, that's really cute_ ; he never intended to be the last guests of the exhibit to leave. But it was alright, having Korra under his arm and walking out intoxicated and exhausted to the cab, stumbling into their apartment and into a warm, welcoming bed at three in the morning.


End file.
